it makes me cough,
when you blow your smoke in my face,
but I find that turning away just isn't an option with you.
you're always leaving a second before I tell myself I'm done with you,
and then I have to see you again,
I'm addicted to the vanilla scented cigarette smoke
you leave behind when you walk away,
winking at me over your shoulder.
I'm drowning in the scent you carry,
the way you hold yourself,
and I don't know how to run away anymore.
you're leaving a trail of candy flavoured
in the kisses you lay down my neck.
I always know where to find you---
-even if I don't want to,
and I don't know how to get rid of you,
and keep the
scent you leave…
I don't think I love you